


the big top of twisted iron

by angelicdi



Category: The Crown (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bulimia, Cheating, Depression, Diana seeks freedom and peace from the Royal bullshit, Drama, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Drama, Freedom, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Infidelity, Marriage, Mention of Charles disgusting behavior/gr00ming, Panic Attacks, Royal Wedding, author is anti-monarchist take it or leave it, author updates at her own leisure so sorry for any hiatuses, don’t worry Charles is going to ROT, implied/referenced trauma, long fic, lots of call outs on Royal bullshit, many more that I’m too lazy/forgetful to mention, royal family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29248926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicdi/pseuds/angelicdi
Summary: a dove spreads its wings to fly off into the sky, only to reach the solid glass of a crafted dome. it thumps and thuds, twisting and turning against the glass. surely, someone can hear her?follows a tale of diana, charles, and camilla– with a twist. diana-centric.
Relationships: Camilla Duchess of Cornwall/Charles Prince of Wales, Charles Prince of Wales/Diana of Wales (1961 - 1997)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. a flying foul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello! I write. first chapter ahead, basically camilla & charles dicking about. may skip ahead if you’d like but does well to establish well... the story, haha. 
> 
> happy reading. :)

_**Chapter 1:**_ a flying foul

**♔♔♔**

_“Camilla, er… do pass that love.”_

The bare faced skin of alabaster walls dried onwards into time under the burning glaze of empty irises. 

A chair groaned, fond of a lanky curve which so often graced its spine. A hunched figure leaned its body into the ebb and flow of empty air, quiet shuffling, hushed breaths and soft murmurs; accompanied by the whining of wood and a hollow _‘cling’_ of fine China. With broad shoulders, a distinct silhouette was cast: a shuffle of chestnut hair casting gray figure against the surface of antique craftsmanship lost to history with time. 

The things this wall had seen, Camilla wondered.

“Camilla.”

A soft hand enfolded her person— _Camilla—_ as her focused glare turned soft and vulnerable. Sucking in a short breath, the older woman glanced over at her counterpart.

“Your Royal Highness,” she returns. 

The man across from her— slender and lanky, yet broad in stature, quite tall, accented in his best dressed with a studious expression gracing his features. At first, she thought he may have been cross with her and lost her mental bearings. However, she quickly came to her senses. _Worry_ graced his features, not upset— and with every soft breath and gentle movement of his she feared she might break. 

“ _Camilla.._. is everything alright?” a deep voice teetered, on the edge of emotional precipice.

‘No,’ Camilla thought, but of course thoughts did more harm than well in this world of smoke and mirrors. 

Shifting in her seat, the woman found her ground with a quick glance over the young man’s face. 

In front of her, she took in the craft of thick brows furrowed in concern. Face in rigid structure, long and slender, and the lines that reflected both growing concern and tired against small upset. Here she was, she felt, with a reflection of her innermost turmoil— a prize for all her hard work, yet naughty company of the most complex blanketing. 

“I’m fine,” she replied softly, “just a bit lightheaded.” A smile graced her features as it returned reddish hue to his cheeks. 

“Oh,” her company moved from his tiny throne onto the back of her chair— it felt meeker than his, smaller than his— yet oh so big, just for a moment, when she looked at him.

“...If you are feeling lightheaded, may I suggest a lie? We don’t have to...” he cleared his throat, “...well..”

Camilla giggled as his face deepened in hue, “I do understand.”

 _Charles_ — her company for the evening and most of the morning, cupped her face gently with both hands, fingertips gracing her cheekbones. The fringe of her hair hugged her face tightly, as he shifted his hands to and fro, lifting each eye into a smile. 

“ _Charles_!”

Charles smiled brightly at the mention of his name.

To him, anything sounded like sugar from Camilla’s lips. It sounded like tomorrow, it sounded like yesterday and all those missed days in between. It sounded like freedom, all those loud, sparkly, bold things and more. Yet it laced delicacies and intricacies his mother and father would never understand. 

To him, he was _owed_ this— those freedoms in which he was to love, to dream, to be. His lover’s laughter was like music to his ears, a symphony that fell into the background of nature: the sweet sounds of birds spreading their wings in an ordinance to the north, butterflies kissing the petals of flowers in search of desserts.

Incomparable, he felt, but one in the same. 

His hard bottomed shoes kissed the floor, soft carpet muffling steps containing the weight of an irrevocable mission. Warmth spread a pool into Charles’s gut, down to the tips of his toes, all the way up until it funneled gooey mush of his brain. He hadn’t very much noticed the stop of his ministrations towards Camilla, until he finally came to earth, his focus tinkering off into the sparkle of her small ring against his watch in the sunlight.

“Dear, as much as I love your hands. And those intimate displays of affection, as if a part of some play or romantic novel...”

“The works of _Shakespeare_ perhaps?” Charles chuckled.

“ _Oh yes, I’m sure,”_ Camilla smirked with a twinkle to her eye, glancing up at Charles.

Her arm gently unlatched from his wrist and his hands drifted to the sides of her shoulders, slowly and softly. 

His cheeks rose in joy, toothy grin all but showering her in intimacy as he peered down at her. 

“My love?” 

Camilla hummed in acknowledgment. 

The noticeable shift in Charles' features grew from lifted lines to curves spiraled downward, pins of worry dug into his form. In a second, it was if he’d deflated. 

Clearing his throat, Charles spoke down into her with reverence. 

“Whilst I love our endeavors… I do quite feel bittersweet in these moments...” he began, “...As if I am constantly reminded of the everlasting agony of well— _living within a fishbowl.”_

Charles studied Camilla’s body language briefly— relaxed and composed, listening intently — and so on he continued.

“And... well. I’m just so incredibly grateful for you. It’s hell, awful hell. _Pure hell._ ”

“I am incredibly flattered, your Royal Highness...” Camilla looked away at this, cheeks flushing in red hue. She felt coy, reserved, yet powerful in a form she could not describe. Her shoulders then relaxed, open and ready to comfort her love. 

The deliverance only she knew, _she_ could give. 

Yet she felt the stress swirl within her, tugging at her gut, weighing her feet to the floor. 

“It’s all a load of shite. Mummy— _the Queen rather—_ never fathoms to display any sorts of compassion, or glance or even off hand motherly comfort. Her advice is dull and cankerous acid, heart dark as onyx. She wears a glorious crown, a symbol of life and limb, radiant royalty, but oh no don’t be fooled Camilla, no _no no_ -” 

Camilla felt his grip tighten a bit, not painfully, but in an emotion she could not quite decipher in any other language than sadness. Guilt. _Pain._

“Those sparkles make no contest to what’s truly inside. Yes, I love Mummy. I truly do, which is why I seek solace in the desire that she would reflect the crown not just with the public, but with her own children. Yet, _she cant even give me that.”_

“Oh, Charles,” Camilla whispered back softly, reaching her hand behind to clasp his tenderly. 

“She does not understand, simply does not understand,” he spat angrily, “It is _grotesque, grotesque!_ ” 

Words full of venom roared from Charles’s lips, although for whom their fangs sunk neither Charles and Camilla could precisely pinpoint.

“And this life I live? _**Awful** ,”_ he groaned vehemently.

“... The help around me cannot properly execute their tasks and henceforth I find myself more and more isolated in my endeavors. Both personal and public ado. I walk around that husk of a palace, shake hands, to the outsiders I wave and wave and _wave,_ and the meals— same old, the same old everyday! _Repetitive_ , day in, day out! I cannot catch a moment’s peace, and as such I am treated a punching bag. The ghoulish figure you dread to see when the lights go off, the… _the_ **_boogeyman_ ** ! Hoggish meals fit for barbarians come out on fine china and as I wipe my mouth for each course I feel _sick_ to my stomach at what I’m ultimately surrounded by!”

“And _that’s..._?” Camilla questioned, knowing the answer, yet testing the ever spinning needle of Charles' emotional compass.

Charles paused, sighed, then chuckled.

“Well, a bunch of silly gits _,_ that’s what…”

For Camilla, Charles sounded more pained than amused.

“I wish to escape this horrid affair. This echo chamber of clowns, and politics, and every manner of indecency and faux pas mixed in between.”

Camilla’s eyes shone in pity, words urging her thumb in delicate motions across the top of Charles’ hand, “Oh, love.”

His eyes glazed over in pain. Yet soon, grabbed ahold of the growing intimacy— hands once tense, loosened gently in comfort.

“Of course I cannot fret… not here, not now. Not with you. And better yet, it’s time for bed,” he finished matter-of-factly.

Camilla grew confused for a moment, faced scrunched into a query. 

“ _Bed?_ ”

The woman quickly glanced over the small dishes with and back up to meet her suitors burning orbs, brow scrunched in confusion before her mouth fell slightly agape. 

Old thoughts caught back up with her, and she felt a bit of guilt— a meal gone to waste, of which he had given to her so elegantly, and requested privacy of the utmost discretion for. 

However, there had been plenty of cold meals— plenty of times they had talked and made dance with one another's forms leaving biscuits and Darjeeling much neglected.

“Oh,” Camilla breathed, “Yes. The lightheadedness.”

Charles hummed in concern, pressing the back of his hand against her forehead. His frown grew deeper, albeit his gentle touch.

“I don’t know anymore… perhaps..” Camilla spoke sheepishly, “I’m a bit better now. Laughter is medicine, as they say.”

Charles grinned amusedly, as began to rub Camilla’s arm in a motion all but arduous.

“From earlier?? Did I make you laugh that hard?” Charles chuckled deeply. 

Camilla perked up a bit, straightening her posture before leaning back a bit more in her seat at Charles, alert. She fluttered her eyelashes and smiled with hidden intentions, hoping to bear fruits only Charles could possess, in order to disarm him.

  
  


_‘All eyes on the King.’_

  
  


Charles caved instantaneously, a slow smile of which graced his features at Camilla’s pointed actions.

“Oh dear… well, nevermind then. Of course, _yes yes_...” his shoes unstuck from the carpet flooring, “... I understand. Always laughter and smiles whenever I am here, to escape that dreadful castle,” Charles chuckled bitterly. 

Eyes glazing over in disgust, his look quickly changed as he came around to his former position, and stood fully facing Camilla once more. 

“You cure me greatly,” he said warmly, voice dripping in adoration and relief. 

The older woman smiled up at him softly, releasing a grip of her dress hem she had not even realized she possessed. 

Reaching out her hand from its released grasp, Charles made no tarry in pacing over to kiss its backside, treating it as if it were made of glass. 

“ _Oh dear, it’s all quite alright..._ we’re here, now. And will be, onward” Charles spoke, low, yet firm, rubbing Camilla’s hand with his thumb. 

Camilla sighed down at the table, “I-”

“It will be. _It will._ No matter what they say, despite all those differences.

I keep that promise to you stronger than any. I lay my life upon it, I won't be— be, thrust into the arms of any old _harlot_ or improper, messy, uninteresting and ignorant inquisitor of only the utmost immaturity, a mannequin who upon wearing her dress, takes _your_ ring from me and lays refuge in _our_ home _. I won’t allow it.”_

Camilla remained silent, sucking in a short breath of surprise. 

“I only long for a wife— a true wife— my wife... _you…_ ” he laid a kiss upon her hand chastely, “... _and only you.”_

Camilla looked up from Charles’s gesture into his eyes deeply. A whirlwind of drama surrounded them, yet she held onto her bearings. She was taken aback by his long winded profession of love, those of which seemed a tad longer lately.

In this brief revelation, she took a moment to address her most obvious variables.

She was smelling each flower of her own desire, picking fruit from any field and running through halls of gold and ancient jewels. Her hand tilted over the fire not once, but many a time. The flame followed her wherever she went, and grew larger with each bite she sunk into the juices of her own desire. The fiery abyss was her friend, and it had not burned her. 

“Charles,” she muttered quietly, with an unreadable face and tone.

Charles looked up at her swiftly, a mood between the both of them lit as suddenly as the tip of a cigarette holder. 

No, _not yet,_ had it burned her. 

“Yes, dear?” Charles asked affectionately. 

_However, by the time it did, she figured she would be much used to it._

“I very much did love your hand upon my shoulder just previous. Perhaps we could.. relax? You could give me a light massage…? Just for safe measure, _what with my light-headedness and all...”_

Her blue eyes reflected emotions straight upon Charles she held unashamedly: coyness, debauchery, playfulness and lust. 

However, for Charles, he felt his heart warm and the nervous pooling in his gut fizzle. His chest felt lighter, and the rays of everflowing noon sent a splattered blotch of sunlight across Camilla’s face.

In Charles’s mind, she was the most beautiful painting he had ever seen. 

He cleared his throat, speaking up with a smirk to his tone. 

“Yes well... do lie across your... _underside_. Not here, but on the bed, the most comfortable, doubles as a masseuse chair,” he smirked, “The top of their class really, I've been lucky enough to be blessed with them.” 

“Really,” Camilla smiled cheekily, “Well then, have you?”

Charles raised an eyebrow playfully, “Yes, of course.”

“Then lead the way, oh prince,” Camilla spoke as she fluttered her eyelashes, lips pursing in amusement as her eyes scrunched in excitement. Her body swayed, legs swinging out the side of her chair in a path that led Charles’s eyes right down to her high heels. 

Charles cleared his throat, keeping himself steady as his face grew dark reddish hue. He smiled triumphantly, glancing at the door outside, where his private secretary lay in wait.

Shifting his gaze to the closed curtains across from them, his actions to read the exact time of day served as a security blanket. He knew it was a bit after noon, yet his eyes also instinctively moved to his watch; which he then noticed was in fact, broken.

“Oh, bloody cheap thing...! Piece of master craftsmanship works more like a flea market trinket. I must get it replaced,” Charles scoffed, “Perhaps later today.”

Looking up at Camilla, he smirked longingly, mirth reeking confidence with all attention on his counterpart. 

His burning gaze was returned to him in her knowing smile. 

_“Now then. Where were we?”_ he uttered wistfully, making his way over the table. 

Their food was left cold, and so was the tea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone vomit as much as I did writing this lmao


	2. gossip and chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter the lovely Diana Spencer.

_**Chapter 2:**_ gossip and chips 

**♔♔♔**

  
“Oh you’ve _GOT_ to tell me Diana!”

“Okay, okay!” a soft voice laughed.

In a crowded room sat voices full of laughter, innocent pokes and friendly banter. 

_“(...) When eyes meet eyes_

_And the feeling is strong_

_I turn away from the wall_

_I stumble and fall_

_But I give you it all (...)”_

  
  


_“_ Oooh, Diana, Diana!” A cheerful voice pitched in eagerly.

“Guys, _gosh--_ _it’s_ , it’s just too much to cover in just this short amount of time! Please bear with me here!” the girl— _Diana_ , sorting out all the details in her head, withheld her giggles from her girlfriends. 

“But Diana, you must!” the voice added once more. 

“Yessss, you must!” another, equally excited voice, pitched up into the crowd. 

The room was scattered about in a dim light, lamps shining brightly yet muffled by the ornate shades which covered them. Night had begun to fall, helping cast the shadow of moon and stars about the atmosphere of euphoria and dreams crafted between the four girls sharing a flat. 

All sorts of sweets, foods and drinks littered the floor. Pepperoni and cheese pizzas lie dormant with unopened boxes, while other items closest to the group of bobbing hair and tinkering glasses yielded but a few more servings. Cadbury and Maltese made their homes on carpet rather than countertops, amongst other little bars of confectionary goods. An unmanned cake knife leaned off the edge of the kitchen counter, patiently awaiting its next dig at buttercream sheet cake. Television and records blared alike. 

It all faded into the background noise of things, a cacophony of glorious sound. 

Laughter and jolly chaos rang throughout the flat, carrying the lullabies of joy and amusement from friends who were stuck on the idea of one another, seeking to read each other’s emotions and gossip. Serious news left one another’s lips as quick as playful banter, hearts intertwined over wine and edible delights sought solace in one another’s joy, nervousness and utter excitement bounced across the room. 

The record began to skip, before a delicate hand reached out to remove its needle. 

“You all!” Diana chuckled, “You’re teasing! And the record, really??” 

_Silence_. 

“We just decided to pick it up, Diana. No big deal.”

Diana laughed and hurled a pillow at her fellow flatmate, Carolyn, who teased her through the growing antics of the night. 

_“Oof!”_ Caroyln huffed out, taken aback by the slight pressure suddenly hitting her abdomen. 

Laughter erupted between the other girls, and before anyone could blink, fluffy pillows cascaded down inside frenzy, one after another headed towards Diana at a breakneck speed. 

“ _Carolyn_!” Diana jumped, laughing in utter joy as she began to tumble backwards in avoidance of a flock of feathers headed her way. 

_“The pizza Di!”_

Diana was red in the face and swallowed laughter behind her palm with an eruption of fits and giggles. She clumsily dogged the pizza with her heel, stumbling backwards onto the wall and gently sliding down it as her hands cradled her joyful tears and laughter. 

“You _all!”_ Diana huffed out, trying to catch her breath, coming down from an irresistible high. She never wanted to leave this moment, ever. She basked in her balance, love, happiness, and warmth. The energy around her was invigorating, and the weekend trip she had ventured proved an adrenaline rush to the senses.

“Thanks for the warning, Virginia. I feared she’d ruin the last of the sausage,” a softer voice than Carolyn’s remarked. 

“Oh I’m sure she’s had enough of that, Anne,” Virginia replied. 

Virginia had whispered loudly, enough to cause a rowdy stir and cast a burning red unto the shy blonde’s cheeks. 

“ _Sooooo...!”,_ Carolyn purred, “Miss Spencer!” she taunted in a posh accent.

“Oh hush,” Diana playfully scolded.

“What happened then?” Carolyn continued with a twinkle to her eye, sipping her wine glass in waiting.

“ _Wellll..._ There was a trip—” Diana began.

“So we heard,” Anne replied with a wink.

Diana blushed immediately, tabloid photos rushing her to the front of her mind immediately. 

“Yes, at Balmoral… what’s it _liike..._?” the center of the circle, Virginia pitched. 

They all swirled their wine glasses as the loops of red liquid trapped each whisper and hushed giggle into the framework forever.

Diana walked forward, carefully dodging the stray box of pizza nearest to them and plopping down onto a pillow sat on the floor.

“It’s surprisingly... uhm... _homey._..” Diana started.

 _“Homey??”_ Carolyn followed excitedly, “What, like an actual home? Or like the flat?”

“Oh gosh, nothing like the flat. Still very fancy and very posh just very... well... at home. Like the sort of place that's a little more down to Earth than most. Very... country.”

“What sorts of ‘country’ are we referring to here?” Anne raised an eyebrow.

“Just very much... I don't know. They ran around hunting for game. Stalking.” Diana stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh Diana, you know lots about that…'' Anne nudged to the side of her, elbow digging into Diana’s left arm with merriment. 

Diana’s face grew reddened tremendously. Whether it was from embarrassment, flattery, or the wine she no longer knew. 

“Well just know that… well, Charles told me I did very well there,” Diana added, smiling and holding her head up proudly. 

The girls all grinned, high fiving each other before looking back at Diana.

Carolyn laughed softly “That's smashing Diana!”

Diana opened her eyes, taking in endeared glances and covering her mouth quickly with a giggle, “Yeah.” 

“ _Oooh_ she’s lovesick guys...! Let’s save her!” Anne suddenly bellowed playfully.

Diana broke into laughter, eyes scrunching in delight at her flatmates antics. 

_“On my way!!”_ Virginia stood up, swinging her glass with a quick slosh of wine jumping out the rim. 

Diana cringed a bit at the sudden splash— the floor being wet and sticky soon she knew, but she was simply too merry (and a bit pissed) to care. 

Walking over to Diana, Virginia stood behind her as Diana stole a quick glance. 

“Look forward, chick!” Virginia let out a laugh.

Diana smiled hesitantly, yet amusedly, and turned around to face her other flatmates. 

“What’s she doing guys...?” Diana asked apprehensively, yet all the while happy. Her small smile turned into a massive grin as her flatmates stifled their giggles behind closed hands.

“Nothin,” Anne replied. 

“Yeah nothin Di, we’ve got no idea,” Carolyn added with a quick nod. 

“ _Still!”_ Virginia chided, “Be absolutely still.”

A silence filled the room, and Diana felt something solid, yet light as it touched the center of her head.

“Oh… my... **_God_ **,” Virginia murmured. 

“What??” Diana asked, about to move her head before the loud shouts of her flatmates stopped her.

Diana’s palms grew sweaty, and in a flash anxiety reared its ugly head before she began to feel less content, panicked. She felt silly but rooted in her fear, and reassured herself that nothing was wrong. 

_‘Right?’_

  
“What guys??” Diana uttered in a slight panic.

Virginia let out a soft breath, “And I now grant thee…. delivered from lovesickness! Your fairy godmother—“ a giggle interrupted, “Has arrived! _Dun dun dun!!”_

Silence filled the room.

“ _What???”_ Diana suddenly asked confusedly, surging a loud uproar of laughter in the room.

“Oh goodness Virginia, you’re such a bellend!” Carolyn laughed past tears. 

Virginia snorted, “Am not!” 

“ ** _Guys_** _!_ ” Diana yelled up, nervous and clammy. 

Her anxiety had shot through the roof in just a second or two. She dreaded when she felt in such a state, as she had not meant to yell, merely sought solace in her friends from the prison of her mind.

“Diana it’s al-“

_‘_ **_BrRRRING BRINNG!’_ **

Diana shot up in her seat, the wine glass shattering into bits at the face of the floor, prompting a tiny scream. 

Silence filled the room once more, and Virginia looked up at Diana, who had an unreadable expression on her face, a bit startled. 

Then as quick as it came, it was gone— and it was Diana now ringing off the silent room and haunting the tense atmosphere.

“ _Virginia_!” Diana laughed out breathily, _“I thought something was wrong!”_

The rustled blonde held hand across her chest, palm cradling her heart as it danced in shaky rhythms.

A growing silence captured the room once more, growing stuffy and tense in the atmosphere. 

“Diana we didn't mean to-”

**_‘bRRRINNG—‘_ **

Diana scurried to the phone, “I’ll get it.”

Carolyn looked back worried, locking eyes with Anne, and then over to Virginia who slowly bore more of a guilty expression. 

The eldest brunette shot up quickly in a feeble attempt to reach for the phone first, but she knew to no avail. 

“ _Hello?”_

The three other girls waited behind, listening intently to each word Diana uttered, while simultaneously wishing for the phone call to be over as soon as possible.

“Yes... _Oh yes_ , yes, alright then. I do understand...”

‘She sounds a bit disappointed,’ Anne mouthed quietly to Carolyn.

Carolyn picked up on Anne’s lips, and briefly glanced worriedly at an onlooking Virginia before back at Diana. The girls all reflected each other's emotions in a parallel mirror of expressions and open hearts.

“Do you mind if I leave a message for Charles?” Diana spoke lightly, twirling the phone cord around her index finger tightly. 

_..._

“Oh sure... Just, tell him I love him, yes…?”

A small clearing of the throat.

“Alright. Yes, yes. Thank you so very much, Mr. Adeane… Yes. _Goodnight_.”

Diana clutched the phone tightly in her hand, loosely fiddled with the cord she had stopped twirling long ago and laid the phone back down onto its hook.

The three girls behind her resembled deer caught in headlights. Diana turned back, hiding her face in a pointed gaze over the carpet, flushed in embarrassment. Knowing the girls were awaiting an answer, she hesitantly spoke. 

“It was uhmm... the _palace people_ ,” Diana uttered softly, cringing inwardly at her choice of words. 

“... I suppose you could call them that. And ehrm.. well, Charles isn't available. I was expecting a call from him tonight, but he became busy I suppose, _yes,_ princely duties. And I guess I will just have to... _um_...”

Diana fidgeted nervously, smiling up at them brightly.

“I'm sure he’s just um… a bit occupied with other matters,” she rushed quickly, choking out her last word as heat ran to her cheeks.

“Currently occupied is no problem for us. More like a problem for him,” Anne chuckled warmly in response. 

Her laugh gave Diana comfort, and grounding. Yet the shy girl felt utterly embarrassed, having planned the call as a surprise earlier in the day: she knew he would call, but hoped to keep it a secret until the moment of. Surprise her girlfriends, give them what they want, and receive comfort and attention from her Prince simultaneously. 

Quite to contrary, instead her anxiety had come out of the blue and rushed over her like a raging sea. It spun awful twists and turns in the core of her heart and fear spewed out from her mouth as her plans fell to shambles. 

She felt quite the party pooper.

_“Diana?”_

Diana couldn't stand to look up. As the light in front of her feet suddenly became fitted narrow, shadows overcame the tips of her toes.

“Diana, we’re here for you. It’s alright, dear,” a light voice carried, Carolyn’s, Diana quickly realized. 

Tears welled up in Diana’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“Oh it’s alright, dear. We’re real sorry. And Virginia is sorry too,” the eldest continued. 

Diana heard a light “ow”, and a clearing of a throat.

“Yes, real sorry Di. I shouldn't have gotten so daft and loose cannon in spirits tonight that I thought it was well... okay to do that to you,” Virginia apologized softly. 

“It’s no problem girls...” Diana spoke sheepishly, hiccuping back watery eyes. 

_“No no,_ we took it a bit too far. Had a bit too much fun,” Carolyn spoke concernedly, “So don’t worry if you freaked. It happens. And plus, with your mind on the Prince’s phone call, it didn't help much that we were distracting you from your love.”

Diana smiled softly at that one.

“Yeah, right idiots we are. Tryna cure lovesickness,” Virginia chimed in. 

“Real buggers. Let it bloom I say!” Anne added happily, causing Diana to hum softly in amusement as her anxieties began to calm.

“Yes yes, really truly, beautiful. Now then, is he holding you _up_?” Carolyn quipped. 

“Yea, what’s up with that?” Anne added, tone edgy and inquisitive. 

Diana sniffled lightly, chuckling softly, “It’s quite alright.”

“Quite alright? Oh _no no no_ … No man, not even the _Prince_ stands up the glorious Diana Spencer. The party isn't over dear, we've got a whole night left!”

Carolyn noticed Diana’s awkward shift at the end of her comment, and lowered her voice to a whisper as she followed up briefly. 

“How about we clean up a bit, and watch cinema?” Carolyn added.

“Oh,” Diana responded in brief delight. 

“Your call, Di! You pick, we watch,” Virginia invited warmly. 

“Yeah, and I'm sure it’s still some more bread and butter pudding left in the _friidgee…_ ” Carolyn winked, Diana looking up with eyes full of excitement.

“You're shitting,” Diana chuckled, grinning happily. Her anxieties were quickly fleeing her at the mention of those things which she loved the most. 

“No!” Carolyn let out a light laugh, “No jokes this time. I promise.” 

Diana smiled, and looked over the faces of her friends. 

Carolyn, who was ever fretting over her, seemed genuine and serious about the peaceful night ahead. Anne was there, eyes glazed over in warmth and affection towards whatever may be ailing Diana, praying that her rock was alright. Virginia still had a worried look to her eye, but the energy radiating from her was loving and eager to please. All of her friends, in their own special way, cared about her deeply. 

In her own head, things could feel very small and scary. But it was moments like these that she felt more important than ever, comforted, and anything but alone. 

“Alright then! It’s on!” Diana cheered happily. 

The girls matched her equal, hands up into the night and wrapped around each other like glue. This is what Diana loved, what she felt most strongly for. More than ever she felt surrounded by love, enveloped by her friends, smothered in affection, and even cleaning (which relaxed her greatly) felt like no chore. 

On the sofa and in front of the telly, her anguish felt insignificant. Her innermost troubles were comforted by her girls: they were her sisters, her _family._ It was at this moment, Diana wished to live forever. 

Better yet, her own boyfriend had approved of her. And so had his family, the Royal Family. 

Diana was an aristocrat, but acknowledged by the Royal Family. Recognized in a front facing mirror, with lights all around. The flashing bulbs of paparazzi would always ground her to reality, and sometimes throw her into a fit.

 _‘It’s weird like that’,_ she felt, but she was enamored of it all. 

Her eyes wide and big, she felt like a kid in a candy store whilst she toured Balmoral. A new life, a change, something that had hit it off brilliantly. Sure, Charles had only met her a few times before and since-- but she was determined to make things work. She could be the woman he needed and more, the girlfriend he desired.

She could be the sister she needed, and more, as well. 

But her friends made her feel as though she has to be nothing but herself.

Diana Spencer. 

And it was with them, and in this moment she felt that these joys would never end. 

She was not to let a thing ruin it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone guess the song correctly? 
> 
> also, sorry for the lack of chips. i do hope pizza and cakes will do this time. :)


	3. an invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana and Charles have a little chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> general warning//TW for Charles absolute assholishness & disgusting actions/behaviors. nothing graphic, however I feel a warning is warranted at any degree. ive placed warning/mention within tags, but felt the need to also place to one here as a precursor to the first Diana and Charles centralized portion of the story. 
> 
> considering this is all based off the awful history transpired between the two of them, do avoid if this chapter (and fic in general) in any way could be or is potentially triggering for you. 
> 
> -
> 
> {{ (the) italicized separated subpassage denotes a flashback.* 
> 
> when you get there, you’ll know. I’ve also y’know, separated said flashback to make things easier. i’ve also formatted it differently. 
> 
> (of course there are some italics outside of the designated passage but don’t confuse those.)
> 
> if that’s still confusing, simply ask in the comments if a particular line is a flashback or not, and I’ll answer. }} 
> 
> — 
> 
> otherwise happy galentine’s day! if you’re here reading this for some reason instead of busy with Valentine’s Day festivities, then don’t worry. I have chocolates and pizza. :)
> 
> -

**♔♔♔**

“Oh surely, you’d want to come.” 

“Oh well I… are you sure?” Diana asked, confidence feeling wobbly and shaky with each quick look her suitor shot across the table her. 

There was the soft sound of a slight shuffling of bodies, entering and exiting the room in a coordinated succession. Freshly steeped tea soon condensated against its metal plate, and the ruffle of footsteps surrounding the two eventually faded into serenity and white noise. 

“Yes yes, I’m very sure. Just chin up, and wear something flattering. Something appropriate. You know,” Charles replied in a nonchalant tone, straightening out his newspaper as he glanced at her from across the table in quick motions. 

“Alright,” she smiled softly, with a kindness to her voice that spoke volumes. “I’d love to go then, Charles.”

Diana felt her heart warm at the preposition of being his plus one, emitting glow at the thought of being by the Prince’s arm for such a prestigious affair. She hummed softly as giddiness rose inside of her: surely, he knew everyone would see them, and wished to show her off, was it not?

Charles moved his newspaper down slightly and flashed a small yet cheeky grin towards Diana from his seat, ocean blue eyes piercing her warm glow. An unreadable look tinged his eyes, but Diana read overall amusement within his features. 

Diana‘s smile grew large and her heartbeat fluttered as Charles’s smile seared into her like a branding iron. The young girl sought repose in the wall aside from her, the paintbrush of her eyes flickering her emotions onto a smooth canvas. 

Turning back to face Charles, Diana quickly grabbed her cup in order to shield her burning cheeks. 

As she sipped from the ornate fine china, her eyes grew full of playful disposition. She decided to take her shot as well, loosening the mood in the air. 

“I’ll be privy and sure to wear something _really_ nice…” Diana spoke over her cup. There was a twinkle in her eye that she hoped reflected in the body language of her suitor. 

However, Charles leaned forward slightly, sitting his own teacup down with a sudden and serious disposition. 

“ _Really, Diana.”_ Charles cleared his throat with an abrupt awkwardness, “You must dress appropriately. Have you ever been to see the horses before?” 

Diana crumpled in her seat, growing embarrassed at her brief attempt to seem alluring as she shakily hid slight deflation. A smile curled the tip of her lips, weak and automatic, yet she felt her excitement lowering. Her hands tightened around her fresh cup of tea. 

Diana felt like a child being doted upon and cursed herself internally for what she felt was a forward and immature blunder. 

Her cornflower blue dress brushed against her lower leg as she adjusted nervously in her seat. As she lowered her teacup, she continued to look forward and avoided as much direct eye contact with her partner as possible. 

“Uh... I...” Diana stammered, “ _Y-Yes._ ”

“ _Hm_. I’m sure. Well, you must come,” Charles replied, ruffling his newspaper and bringing it back over his profile. 

There was the sound of light shuffling, and a clanking of metal against fine china before the silence in the room broke once more. 

“Oh and well... and I’m sure as you know, I want you to be there, _also_ ,” Charles cleared his throat once more, adding with unrhythmic haste. 

Diana felt her body warm, stomach churned row of butterflies. Whilst she was nervous, and felt taken aback by Charles’s sudden change of mood, she could not help but blush at Charles’s abrupt admission. 

She began to absorb herself in deep thought, as she reflected on her and Charles’s relationship. 

Diana felt that despite their awkward and sometimes brief few meetings, that her partner had his own way of expressing his feelings. He had been dreadfully forward previous, and Diana had since sought to understand his actions. Of mere comfort while grieving, he had lept upon her as if a wild animal canvassing the Savanna, and it had done nothing but left Diana flabbergasted, shocked, and flustered.

However, in another blink of an eye, Diana sought pity on him. 

She thought of him as such a pitiful man, and sometimes she would pity him so immensely, it felt like grieving a poor soul to which she was truly unfamiliar. 

It had gotten to the point of which she felt she often dreaded those longer, deeper conversations they could sometimes encounter. There were ones that funneled so deep into her psyche, that they left her emotionally drained and conflated. Whether she was aware it in the moment, or it hit her later all at once, both felt so familiar to her. 

Diana thought back to their previous meetings and Charles’s previous musings. What may have seemed like consistent complaining from a future monarch reflected things Diana felt she could pick up on easily, such as the heart of a neglected child, ailing for a living, loving touch. 

She looked at him with increasingly conflicting emotion. Surely, he could be her Prince Charming too? 

He was just nervous. 

Yes, she felt, _“just nervous”_ — he just needed readjustment, reassurance, and recalibration. Perhaps, things weren’t moving as fast as she had thought, but rather very slow.

This was only their seventh time meeting in three years, and Diana felt as though she knew nothing about him. 

So there she had an emotionally broken puddle of a man, and felt her heart too big to muster any sort of refute.

And perhaps, she could help fix all of that. 

“Well yes.. '' Diana blushed, “I do understand that you would like me there. Or else you wouldn’t be asking me,” she replied with a slight laugh, acknowledging Charles’s outpour of emotion. 

“Yes, of course.” Charles peeked out and smiled curtly at her, taking a sip of his tea. 

His smile was strained, yet Diana did not notice it, lost within her train of thought. 

The Royal Family— _his family_. His family, she thought, perhaps they just didn’t understand him. She had mused from their conversation that Charles’s relationship between him and his family had some sort of strain— anyone could sense it, as it was the elephant in the room. Awkward pauses, slight looks, aversion and lack of physical contact of even the most minuscule kind. It all rang slight familiarity. 

Or maybe it was just a royal routine? Diana could not exactly pinpoint, mentally cataloguing any detail she could remember of significance in answering her mystery. 

“Pass the milk, dear.” Charles commented, holding his newspaper with ease in one hand, and sticking his hand of cuppa out with the other, not daring to look up from his current passage. 

Diana passed the milk absentmindedly, warmth rushing to her cheeks at his term of endearment, despite how cheesy it all felt. She was here, with His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales— was it wrong for her to feel like a giggling schoolgirl? 

He was the prince, and she felt enamored and in awe of his presence whenever they met. It only happened a few times before, so it wasn’t something she had taken much adjustment to.

Diana bit her lip on contemplation, thinking about her counterpart in the sense of utmost royalty. Soon, he would be a King. For a moment, Diana felt honored and emosted, imaging herself in the most esteemed of company. 

But she also felt an ominous burden weigh upon her, one of which she could not identify, that of which felt too heavy to carry. 

Diana shook her head a bit, smiling profusely to cover her anxieties. Surely, they would take things one step at a time, and it would all be alright. 

On top of it all, Diana found they had several things in common. The young girl mentally halted and hit blank wall in thought as she struggled to pull such things up at the current moment.   
  


_“...iana, you’ve come along nicely!”  
  
_

Diana was abruptly snapped out of her thoughts, as she caught the tail end of Charles’s exclaimed remark. She slowly felt an uncertainty bubble within her, a feeling she had not even realized washed over her until she met eyes with Charles from behind his newspaper. Nervous, taken aback, and unsure, she decided to take her chance at a proper reply. 

“ _Really, haha?”_ Diana asked, a mix between nervous laughter and awkward happiness lacing her voice. 

She made her best attempt to read between the lines and figure out what subject matter they were now upon. 

“Yes, well, I do say so myself. I do know so. _Very_ mature. Nicely done, when not of childish antics,” Charles smirked, sitting down his newspaper on the table side. 

Diana flashed a bright smile, soaking in any small bit of Charles’s pleasure exuded by her presence. 

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” Diana spoke softly, holding the side of her cheek in euphoria. 

The blonde felt heat rushing to her cheeks. Flattening her feet against the floor, she heard the soft ruffles of her dress and the gentle sliding of Charles’s dress shoes against the floor as his position shifted a bit. 

Charles peered at her intensely, studying her face for any odd movement or expression. Almost as if searching for a key, or reading a map, he squinted with an unreadable expression upon his face, watching Diana’s form shrink further. 

“ _Oh my_ , is there... is there something on my face?” Diana asked innocently. She nervously brushed her thumb around her lips for any stray crumbs with eyes that burned into her lap in slight embarrassment. 

“No… no. You’re _just…_ ”Charles began as he trailed off into thought.

Diana met Charles eyesight, looking at him directly once more, and swallowed a growing lump in her throat.

“... _Beautiful._ Is all,” Charles remarked languidly. 

“Oh…” Diana relaxed, butterflies fluttering against feeling her stomach, _“I… oh..”_ The blonde’s cheeks grew red, and she looked down further as her face began to heat. 

“Nothing to mention. It’s all quite alright. I wouldn’t have invited you here if I had not found you so... _alluring.”_ Charles added, grinning toothily at Diana’s form. 

Diana giggled a bit and covered her mouth in surprise as her cheeks grew warmer.

As she looked down over her hand, Diana quickly peered over at Charles to read his expression. 

Charles had bore an impassive and exasperated expression behind his newspaper, one of which Diana had not seen. Yet when the paper was not visibly blocking his face, his expression softened into a rise of eyebrows, charming smile, and scrunched eyes as he met Diana’s unassuming form. 

Diana felt herself fidget, grinning brightly up at Charles’s presumed relaxed demeanor. 

Diana enjoyed when she was treated as though she was at the center of his universe, like this. She did admit, sometimes she felt small in front of the Prince. But Charles had a way of disarming her that could be considered increasingly frightening, albeit their partnership.

 _‘Surely, he wouldn’t hurt me’_ , Diana thought, _‘Or mean to. Guide me, rather. There is so much I do not know about the world, and here is my prince, to sweep me off my feet and carry me all sorts of places.’_

Charles coughed, alerting Diana from her haze and shot his gaze down to the flickering of his wrist as he single handedly grasped the paper once more, bringing it over his line of vision. 

“Yes, yes... all good fun. Unfortunately, I must be going soon, however.” Charles spoke bluntly, “I do wish to warn you before then.”

Diana was slightly taken aback, and the mood changing once more jarred her. She smiled awkwardly, reprimanding herself for what she felt was her own incorrect emotional compass, checked the clock, and gauged that it was still quite early on in the night. Her face then contorted in a soft displeasure, and suddenly she felt as cold as the tea in front of her. 

“Busy again tonight?” Diana asked, hoping Charles would reconsider or could possibly sit aside his duties. 

Charles merely hummed in acknowledgment at her comment whilst his newspaper continued to block the front of his form. 

Diana cleared her throat slightly, tapping her teaspoon against the plate in front of her absentmindedly. 

“Oh gosh... well... could you stay a bit longer, perhaps? It feels like time flies by when I’m with you,” Diana laughed lightly, rubbing her hand gently over her thigh under the table in an anxious manner. 

Charles placed his paper down once more and met Diana’s gaze, remaining silent but almost as if awaiting further elaboration.

Diana read his face and paled a bit, hands growing sweatier as she stopped her repetitive motions onto the delicate fine china. 

“Well I just feel… I just feel as though we could get to know each other a bit better. Just sort of… well. Spend more time together, really?” Diana asked hopefully, “I know there are issues with you… _and your family, and we could work through them together I… ”_

Reaching both her hands out to the table in a welcoming motion, she smiled warmly, actions full of heart that she hoped would be reciprocated by her partner. 

However, Charles made no mention to extend his hand, only bringing down his newspaper, and smiling a grin that seemed almost forced. 

“It’s alright Charles,” Diana began, as her smile widened, “I understand the nerves. I won’t—“

“ _We will see each other at the Ludlow races tomorrow, yes?_ ” Charles spoke icily. 

Diana’s eyes grew a bit wide, and she felt mouth go dry at Charles’s tone. She hoped she hadn’t hit a sore spot, and began to backtrack further to elaborate as best as she could. 

“Oh _I— I_ , apologize, I didn’t mean to-“ 

“ ** _No no._** It’s just... well, I really must be going,” Charles Interrupted as he sat down his teacup in swift motion. He shot another glance at Diana, smiling tightly in a manner that shrunk Diana with its glower.

“I understand.” Diana finished meekly, voice fragile as broken glass, “I’m very sorry if I offended you, Your Royal Highness. I didn’t mean anything by it, I just wanted to talk with you, as _your…_ ” she rambled, trailing off at the end unconfidently. 

She felt embarrassed, and thought of herself as too forward. How long would it be until they met again? 

Perhaps Charles was cross with her, and knew not how to express it. Her thoughts wondered to what she could have said otherwise, and she began to wonder if she was reversing all the hard work she put into Balmoral.

“Just prepare for the races then, and we’ll talk _tomorrow_ ,” Charles added, putting on his coat with a bit of haste. His voice wavered, and she sensed a choking in his throat— slight, but noticeable. 

Diana felt her senses attempt to calm at the mention of tomorrow. Perhaps, they could rekindle tomorrow? And then they could talk, after the races. 

‘Maybe, Charles is also nervous about the races too, and needs to blow off some steam. I don’t know what’s going on in his home, I spoke out of turn.’ Diana thought stressfully. 

She nodded up at Charles, who was adjusting his tie in a far away mirror. Diana questioned if he could even see himself well, but left him stuck in a dance of his own perceived appearances rather than spike her anxiety at her wandering worries of “making things worse.”

“You look handsome,” Diana beamed to Charles, speaking in a tone of faux confidence, which only hid an increasing worry. 

Charles’s eyes did not wander from the mirror at all, hands criss crossing his black tie with swift motions. 

“I’d hope so,” Charles responded dully, “This suit costs a fortune.” 

A small curve met the side of Diana’s mouth and her upwards gaze flipped to grace the floor. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” she spoke lightly, looking up once more to see Charles’s line of focus still aimed towards the door. 

“Well then. I’m off. And oh, one other thing, dear.” 

Diana bit her lip at the use of his endearment, and her gaze turned hopeful as she quickly looked upwards. She tapped her foot on the ground softly, and felt her heart quiver. 

“Yes?” She asked delicately.

Charles turned to stare at her, lips opened slightly ajar, but then clasped them shut in a sudden manner. His face seemed stuck, almost frozen in his stare, and he looked forward quickly. He whistled out randomly, then he stuffed his hands into his pockets, turning sharply on his heel. 

Diana tried her best to study his face before he turned once more, tilting her head in confusion at his erratic body language.

“Pardon…?” Diana asked confusedly, “Is everything alright Charles—?” 

“Oh.. _yes yes._ _Nevermind_ ,” he waved off, turning to the door once more and walking towards it with haste. 

He turned the doorknob, exiting as quickly as he came. 

The hollow shutting of the door almost felt as loud as ever. 

Diana sighed loudly as the room became silent once more, and propped her hand underneath her chin whilst she ran the other through her hair. 

“Well… I blew that,” she spoke aloud, laughing to herself sadly, taking in the scenery around her. 

Untouched biscuits, a half drunk cup of tea including Charles’s own— of which was completely empty. Jams and jellies were half opened, and the deafening silence swallowed Diana right down to her core. 

The blonde closed her eyes as she tried to work over and soothe the bumps of the night, in her mind.

In only the next several hours would she be at Ludlow. She felt as though she had ruined the current night, and drilled into herself that she could not blow her upcoming affairs, not even in the slightest. She felt the strong need to show true companionship towards Charles; she was nervous, beaming, yet excited to be in his presence and she sought an overwhelming reassurance of her current relationship to be more than just a crush. 

She felt she would have to step up to the table, in order to please. Each and everyone one of Charles’s offhand looks, felt like murder to her soul. 

Diana stood up from her table, removing the cloth in her lap and dusting off any stray crumbs. Grabbing her handbag and jacket, she took a deep breath, looking out the window at the distant night sky. 

“At least I have Camilla to help me tomorrow,” she exhaled, pushing her chair in gently.

She recalled the eager conversation Camilla had laid upon her the night before.   
  


**♔♔♔**

_“Oh, Camilla. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Diana spoke into the phone, twirling the cord around her index figure leisurely. Her tone was calm, yet kind, and slightly inquisitive._

_“Oh yes, well I’ve called you to speak about something very important” Camilla spoke, and Diana could almost hear her grin into the line, “_ ** _Very_ ** _pressing matter indeed.”_

_Diana looked back around her shoulder, eyeing her roommates (or the lack thereof) in their respective places of the flat. They didn’t seem particularly interested in what she was up to on the telephone, and Diana heard no shuffling of feet._

_After holding silent on the line for a bit, Diana turned back to face the wall to which the phone sat in front of, still in surprise at the caller on the end of the line._

_“Oh?” Diana replied into the line, voice laced with a hint of curiosity, “Which is...?”_

_She bit her lip a bit, awaiting Camillas response. Surely, it had to do with Charles._

_It wasn’t the first time Camilla had spoken with her, nor had she felt it would be the last._

_‘An old friend’, Charles mentioned, ‘and that was all’._

_Diana thought nothing of it really— she had not observed anything alarming about Camilla, nor Camilla’s behaviors, and was not one to see others as an immediate threat. As long as Camilla stayed within her own lane, Diana sought no quarrel._

_Some days, Diana wondered if Charles saw herself the same way as she did, or as if she was aimed to bite the older woman’s head off._

_“I’m sure you’ve heard about the Ludlow races, correct?” Camilla spoke into the phone._

_Diana paused a bit, filing through her mind._

_“Oh gosh… well I honestly haven’t been keeping much track of such things, Mrs. Parker-Bowles,” Diana answered, steady in tone, yet feeling slightly embarrassed._

_“... But yes, I am familiar,” Diana finished._

_“Oh dear, you can always call me Camilla,” Camilla noted, humming in approval._

_“Oh yes, of course,” Diana cleared her throat awkwardly and laughed warmly, hoping to break the ice. “...But, I’m well.. as I said. haven’t really been keeping track of the calendar lately, unfortunately. Well, I have, but when it comes to those sorts of affairs...”_

_Diana trailed off, biting her lip harder as her nails rhythmically rapped against the hardwood of the phone counter as she awaited the ever inching core of Camilla’s intentions._

_“Well, you know,” Diana laughed, clearing the silence on the line._

_“Yes, surely, surely. You have a life of your own after all, as do I. Well, I only know because I’ve always gone to the races to spectate. Has Charles shown you the silks colors yet?”_

_“Silks colors?” Diana asked confusedly, as she felt taken over by a brand new feeling of uncomfortability._

_“Yes, lovely silks they are,” Camilla responded, full of satisfaction and tact._

_“By design?” Diana asked inquisitively._

_“Well yes, but simply by them wearing it. Makes everything look better of course, pride, when your lover wears such lovely intimates, you know.”_

_Diana blushed slightly._

_“I hadn’t a clue Mrs— Camilla. I hadn’t a clue, I guess that’s my fault however. Charles has surely been busy as of late, and I... I suppose I just haven’t really kept track. How embarrassed am I?” She laughed softly, hoping to soften any judgment._

_“Oh dear, it happens to us all. They go be merry, splurge cent after cent, bathe in money, wear such bold colors and robes, gallop their horses, make merry so those men do. And then we’re supposed to wait at home, while they ride out and have a jolly good time getting pissed. It’s ridiculously notorious,” Camilla chuckled._

_“Yes, it can be all quite difficult,” Diana spoke matter of factly, adding a light laugh as not to seem hostile._

_“Such is life. But it is all of no worries,” Camilla sighed the drag of her cigarette echoing throughout the line._

_Diana felt herself take a brief inhale._

_“... As a matter of fact, How about we meet soon, yes? tomorrow, in fact?” Camilla added, and Diana could practically hear the eagerness trapped behind her voice._

_In all spirit of kind intention, Diana had least expected such a phone call. Camilla Parker-Bowles, of all people, was nothing more than a close friend to Charles. Married, with her own life, and assuming the life of upper class nobility._

_‘So why is she calling me so eagerly?’, Diana wondered._

_To make amends? To make ends meet? In good spirits, to reconcile and establish herself truly as friend, rather than foe?_

_Diana relaxed her shoulders, exhaling, and settling into the sudden yet so far pleasant phone call. She thought things over briefly— and ultimately decided it would do more than good to have some royal company willing to accompany her to such a royal affair._

_“Well, gosh,” Diana spoke up into the line, “It all sounds surely exciting... we... I only hope I wouldn’t be in the way of all the Royal affairs,” Diana laughed jokingly, hiding an air of uncertainty behind her tone._

_“In the way? Sweetheart, you’re the Prince’s girlfriend. Surely you won’t,” Camilla chippered brightly._

_Diana felt disarmed at that, settled into the conversation quickly than she realized, and scratched behind her ear as her cheeks grew brighter._

_“Yes yes,” Diana laughed flustered, “I surely hope they see me that way.”_

_“Oh no, dear it’s quite alright. I can tell you are nervous but let me tell you, it will all work brilliantly. I’ll be there tomorrow, and I’ll help you with anything you need. Though it may feel icy outside of that wee circle, you’ll soon learn that it proves no difficulty to make way. You must know how to navigate it all, you know? Like charting a navigational map,” Camilla spoke, the exhale of her cigarette smoke snaking coils into the line._

_Diana absorbed each word. She wasn’t quite ready or expecting such a mouthful, but she felt as if the older woman possessed infinitely more wisdom than she could currently fathom about Royal affairs, and so she listened. Camilla seemed sweet enough to Diana, and the youngest of the two clenched the base of the phone in deep thought._

_“.... And I promise, I won’t get in the way. But it doesn’t help to have a little company, does it?” Camilla asked, inclination to her tone._

_As the line filled with an ever growing silence, Camilla parted her mouth to speak once more, before Diana caught up to the line._

_“Surely, no no, of course. Tomorrow it is then,” Diana smiled into the phone, “ At Ludlow.”_

_Feeling more reassured than she had in a long while, the young girl felt her nerves soothe as she thought about the events transpiring tomorrow, only alongside Camilla’s gracious assistance._

_“Brilliant. I hope our meeting soon comes to pass. See you tomorrow evening then,” Camilla spoke happily._

_“Yes, let’s,” Diana finished._

_“Goodbye then, Lady Spencer,” Camilla replied._

_The older woman hung up the line, leaving Diana with nothing but the echoing dial tone and her thoughts._

**♔♔♔**

Diana straightened her position, mining for newfound confidence, as she headed towards the door. 

She reassured herself of one thing vehemently, and it paused in its repetition only for Diana to take deep breaths or handle personal affairs:

‘All will be well, if I just wait until tomorrow.’  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this work has gotten loads more attention than I expected, in just a few days. wow. 
> 
> as a reminder to always check tags, please do note that this is a long fic. it’s already at 9000+ words and trust me, it has nowhere near just 3 chapters. 
> 
> if you’re in for the long ride, hello! if not, you may want to hop off now. 
> 
> thank you for all the hits, and I wish you all well.


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